


Keep You Warm

by dhwty_writes



Series: Winter Prompt Challenge [2]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, Huddling For Warmth, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Prompt Challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:27:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27843703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dhwty_writes/pseuds/dhwty_writes
Summary: It is snowing. Again. Inspring. Jaskier is freezing his fucking balls of, thank you very much; and who is he to deny his witcher's request to sleep next to him?
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Winter Prompt Challenge [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2035792
Comments: 24
Kudos: 242





	Keep You Warm

**Author's Note:**

> So, this turned a bit steamy in the end. Since I haven't written anything spicier than a tomato in ages, I am a bit confused as to how this happened. I looked away for two seconds and suddenly the bard was horny.  
> Have fun!

It was cold. No, that wasn't quite strong enough of an expression. Jaskier was freezing his  _ fucking _ balls off, in a cave in the arse end of nowhere no less, with no one but a grumpy horse and a grumpier witcher as his companions. Oh, right. And a damp fire that smoked more than it gave off heat or light.

He sighed and turned to his other side, sulking that he wouldn't find a comfortable sleeping position either. It had started out well enough, when he had found Geralt a whole month earlier than anticipated—he always was the first to set out on the Path, since Oxenfurt wasn't encased in ice and snow as Kaer Morhen was.

But it had been a warm winter with an early thaw and no sooner had he entered Kaedwen, he had felt two strong witcher-y arms lifting him up in their annual reunion hug. After a decent amount of complaints (squeals, Geralt insisted, the liar) and a maybe more-than-sufficing amount of alcohol to swap stories to (complaining about colleagues, students, and siblings, which were more or less the same for Geralt, but  _ quite _ different for Jaskier), they had continued with their adventuring. And now-  _ this _ .

One day they had been tracking a griffin and the next,  _ BOOM _ , snow again. Snow! At the beginning of Birke! Not unheard of, of course, there was snow as late as Belleteyn sometimes, but still, this was outrageous. Because they weren't talking a few flakes barely encrusting the blades of the grass here,  _ oh _ no! This was a twenty-to-forty-inches-situation they were dealing with here; Jaskier wasn't sufficiently equipped for that in the best of times and  _ these _ were not the best of times.

He had been preparing for spring, and summer after! Wading through tepid creeks, enjoying a goblet of wine at the coast, those kinds of things. He had cropped trousers, silken doublets, sheer shirts through which one could see every hair on his chest (with a witcher's eyesight, at least). But furs and wool? No, he didn't have any of that! That was all stored in his quarters in Oxenfurt, way too heavy to be brought along on the Path. In hindsight, that had been very stupid.

Geralt wasn't being helpful, either. At first the witcher had laughed and called him an idiot (the  _ prick _ ), and now he was getting grumpier and grumpier with every chatter of Jaskier's teeth.

He, of course, was fine, stupid witcher mutations. Well, and he did have sturdy boots and a real cloak, which promptly had been converted into Jaskier's with the first flake hitting the ground. Not that it made much of a difference. 'Fucking cock,' he thought as he pulled the coat tighter around his shoulders with trembling fingers.

He exhaled a painful breath and forced his eyes close again. He should try to sleep, he knew, come morning they had a long way ahead. And then he wouldn't notice the cold either, he hoped. On the other hand, he remembered Geralt telling him something about falling asleep when cold, something he couldn't quite remember-

"Jaskier," Geralt grumbled quietly from where he laid on the other side of the campfire.

"Y-yeah?" he managed to get out with his chattering teeth, and turned around to face him.

Geralt was propped up on one arm, studying him with a curious look on his face. This procedure continued for such a long time that Jaskier's skin began to crawl. He was just about to ask what exactly they were doing, when Geralt lifted his blanket a bit and jerked his chin to the side. "Get your arse over here."

Jaskier felt like he should protest the gruff order. In any other situation he probably would've protested. But fuck, it had to have been hours since he last felt his toes. If Geralt was willing to share his blanket with him, he wasn't about to object.

Getting up and walking the short distance over to him, was a bit of a chore, if he was quite honest. Especially since he was dragging his bedroll and useless blanket with him, while doing his best not to trip over Geralt's cloak or soak Geralt's woollen socks with slush.

When he was within an arm's width of his friend, it was the witcher who carefully laid out the bedrolls so that they were overlapping slightly and hopefully wouldn't slip apart too much while they slept, so that one of them ended up sleeping on the floor. Once Jaskier had sat down, it was also Geralt, who untied the cloak with deft fingers, who pulled their two blankets up to their chins and spread the cloak over them, too. "Sleep," he grunted.

Jaskier nodded obediently and closed his eyes, giving his best to do so, as he scooted as far away from his friend as their shared blankets allowed him. That wasn't quite as effective in terms of sharing body heat, but if a decade of travelling with Geralt of Rivia had taught him something, it was that, while the witcher was many things, a cuddler was not one of them. Jaskier doubted it would be any different in this completely unprecedented situation.

Imagine his surprise, when it was Geralt, too, who threw an arm over his waist to pull him close. Jaskier 'eep'-ed and Geralt 'hmm'-ed, and went ahead to press his forehead against the base of Jaskier's skull. "Stupid bard," he mumbled, "should've come over sooner. Can't have you die of hypothermia."

"A-alright," he managed through his still chattering teeth, "I-I'll k-k-keep that i-in m-mi-mind." At least now he was certain that his heart was still pumping blood through his veins. Quite thoroughly so.  _ Gods _ , Geralt was  _ bound _ to notice at this rate.

"Hmm," Geralt said again and propped himself up on his elbow again, frowning darkly down at him.

"Wh-what?"

"You're still cold."

Jaskier almost laughed. "Yeah," he managed to get out without being interrupted by his teeth. "It- It'll t-t-take a whi-while." Shucks, there went his record.

" _ Hmmm _ ," he hummed even more displeased, his fingers twitching as if he wasn't sure what to do with them. Geralt tore his gaze away and hissed something akin to "Fucking fragile humans," before simply yanking his shirt over his head.

Cold or not Jaskier thought his reaction that could only be classified as 'bewildered, admiring staring' was more than justified. He caught the thought 'Oh, fuck  _ me _ ' flitting through his head and thanked all his lucky stars that he didn't utter them out loud.

Geralt tossed his shirt to the bedroll, to be used as a pillow. He fixed him with a piercing glare and,  _ oh _ , if Jaskier had been frozen before he was positively  _ melting _ now.

He really tried not to ogle his friend. He really did. But he couldn't quite stop himself from raking his eyes over the bare torso before him that looked as if it had been sculpted by the  _ gods _ and-

"Off," Geralt growled, pulling Jaskier's attention back to his eyes.

"I'm sorry, what?" he squeaked. He wasn't embarrassed to admit squeaking this time, thank you very much. Evidently, he had missed something.

"Off," Geralt insisted again, and tugged on Jaskier's collar.

"Umm-" His eyes bulged. 'Oh,  _ shit. _ ' His chances of surviving the night were sinking rapidly.

"Body heat will keep you warm," Geralt replied with a simple shrug. As if there was nothing much to sleeping arm in arm with your half-naked,  _ very _ good looking... friend. As if that wouldn't lead to a whole host of other problems and-

Geralt raised an inquisitive eyebrow and Jaskier couldn't even finish thinking 'He's got a point' before he was divesting himself of his own shirt. His fingers were still numb, so it took a lot longer (and probably looked a lot less appealing) than normally, but before long Jaskier was shirtless, too, staring at Geralt with wide eyes.

He just huffed a breath—in... annoyance? Amusement? Who was Jaskier to judge—and lay down again, his arm outstretched for him. Jaskier gulped and stretched out next to him. Again, it didn't take long for Geralt's arm to settle on his waist, and  _ oh _ , there was no  _ chance _ he'd survive until sunrise. The cold forgotten, his nerve-ends ablaze; along the sparse points of skin-to-skin contact there was a delightful tingling, bordering on unpleasant.

"Sleep," Geralt mumbled again, his lips brushing against the bare skin of his shoulder.

Jaskier closed his eyes and breathed out a shuddering: " _ Fuck. _ " Sleep, Geralt said? How the fuck was he supposed to sleep like that, with arousal coiling hot in his stomach. With a casual arm thrown over his waist, presenting a perfectly hold-able hand within grasping distance? With Geralt so close he could feel the heat emanating of his torso, so close he only needed to scoot back and tip his head up to have a wonderful neck exposed to him that basically  _ begged _ to be kissed-

'Ah, shit.' He squirmed uncomfortably, in an attempt to hide his rather embarrassing predicament, that he knew to be futile. At least he had his back to Geralt, anything else would be truly mortifying. Still, he really hoped the witcher would choose to ignore it.

Apparently, the witcher knew no such mercy. He sighed deeply and—tightened? tightened—his arm around his waist. "Really, Jaskier?" He pressed his face into his neck and inhaled deeply. Jaskier imagined to feel his lips spread in a grin against his skin. " _ Now _ ? You were chilled to the bone not half an hour ago."

Horrifyingly, he heard himself say: "Well, people  _ change _ , Geralt,  _ gods _ , keep it up." His mouth snapped shut as he became cognisant of the stupidity of his own words.

When Geralt didn't answer, Jaskier idiotically kept on talking: "You never would've noticed except for your  _ stupid _ sense of smell." He rolled his eyes. "Really, what do  _ you _ deem to be the appropriate reaction to- to-" He waved his hand around to encompass the absurdity of the situation. "-to this! Hm?"

Geralt, ever the conversationalist, replied: "Hm."

"My thoughts exactly," Jaskier huffed and crossed his arms. His heart was beating as if he had just completed an endurance run, and he heaved a few breaths to calm himself down.

The lack of response from Geralt was beginning to freak him out. Maybe he had underestimated the severity of this folly. Self-consciously he pulled up his shoulders. "Do you want me to leave?" he hazarded a guess. "So, um- so, I can do something about it?" 'And not bother you with it anymore,' his mind supplied.

No reaction. He closed his eyes. 'Look at the bright side, Jaskier,' he told himself. 'No reaction is better than reaction.' Yeah, it didn't convince him either. "Geralt?" he tried again.

The witcher hummed against his neck, his arm moving at a snail's pace. After an overabundance of hitched breaths and skipped heartbeats, there was a possessive hand splayed all over his stomach, and Jaskier thought he had finally an idea of what was going on in Geralt's head. "Do you-" He cleared his throat, there was really no reason to lead this conversation in a voice an octave higher than normally. "Do  _ you _ want to do something about it?"

Geralt's arm twitched, still hesitating. "Do you want me to?" Geralt rumbled in his gravelly voice. The smallest of nods was all it took for him to pull Jaskier flush against him; albeit carefully and slowly so, as if any too sudden movement might startle him, scare him away.

"Well," Jaskier laughed nervously. "It might help to alleviate the awkwardness of this situation a bit," he joked, pressing back even further.

A gasp escaped his mouth when Geralt rewarded him with a roll of his hips for that, his hand ghosting over the front of his pants. "Y-yeah, I would very much like you to do something about it," he was quick to splutter.

" _ Hm. _ " Oh, he  _ was _ grinning after all. The bastard knew  _ exactly  _ what he was doing, and he was  _ enjoying _ it. Jaskier was almost about to voice his complaints when Geralt's grip tightened even more, his hand steadily travelling lower, ghosting over his hips, splaying his legs, but never touching right where he wanted him to.

Jaskier sighed contentedly, as he tipped his head against Geralt's shoulder. Oh, the urge to pull him into a kiss was even worse than anticipated. "Geralt," he whined.

He chuckled quietly and dragged a rather toothy kiss over his shoulder. "Good?" he asked as his fingers ghosted over the front of Jaskier's breeches again.

The  _ audacity _ . "Yes, good," he hissed, chasing the friction to no avail. "Would you get on with it, then? Else I might overheat."

Geralt huffed a laugh and retracted his hand back to his abdomen, rubbing infuriating circles right above his waistband. "Bossy," he commented, "and rude." After a moment he added: "Nothing's changed, then."

Jaskier had a thousand biting comments on the tip of his tongue, but a thumb slipping below his waistband reminded him that now was not the time. He held his breath, expecting Geralt to loosen the ties. Nothing happened.

Well. Good thing he wasn't above begging. "Please," he murmured, rolling his hips back, where Geralt was straining against his breeches. "Weren't you going to keep me warm?"

"I s'pose I was." Now  _ that _ definitely was a kiss to his shoulder, followed by sharp nipping teeth. Geralt tugged at his breeches. "Off," he demanded again.

And, well, Jaskier was weak, and he was wanting; who was he to decline such an offer?

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! As always, leave a comment and a kudo or come over to chat with me on [tumblr](https://dhwty-writes.tumblr.com/) if you liked it!


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